


Attachment

by harmonypon



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grieving, I’m bad with tags, Oneshot, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25576336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harmonypon/pseuds/harmonypon
Summary: Emmy attempts to playfully tease Hershel, but is surprised when he takes it personally.
Relationships: Emmy Altava/Hershel Layton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Attachment

The evening sun shone through the window directly onto Hershel Layton’s desk as his pen scratched on the parchment. The muffled sounds of regular street banter and traffic were barely covered up by the tinny, faraway sound of the nearby gramophone gently playing an operatic tune.   
Hershel set down his pen and covered his mouth as he hoarsely yawned. Goodness, he was not a fan of such boring paperwork, but he had put it off enough. 

A knock sounded from the office’s door, and Hershel smiled and took the opportunity to further procrastinate as he stood up to answer.   
He was happy to see a familiar, helpful face smiling back at him as he opened the door.

  
“Good evening, Professor!”

“Ah, Good evening, Emmy.” 

  
Big brown eyes from out in the hallway happily met Hershel’s. Emmy was carrying a paper bag in her hand. She showed it off proudly.

“Care for an afternoon treat? I bought us some coffee cakes!” 

“Ah, all that work with such a nearby deadline...” Hershel started, sounding hesitant looked back to his desk.  
Emmy put her hands on her hips. 

“You know as well as I do that you’re only going to burn yourself out by the time you reach the deadline. At least rest for a

few minutes!” 

“I suppose you’re right.” Hershel sighed.

“Please, come in.” 

Emmy comfortably sat herself on the couch in the middle of the room, setting the paper bag filled with sweets on the coffee table.

“I’ll make us some tea.” Hershel said as he stepped to the small side table cluttered with a single tea set and multiple dusty artifacts. 

  
He worked away, heating up the water and preparing ingredients. Emmy basked in the atmosphere, listening to the sound of the soft clatter of china and the gentle pouring of water.

Soon, the cups were filled as Hershel sat next to Emmy.   
Hershel took a dainty sip of tea before setting his cup down.

“So, Emmy.” Hershel started.

  
“You recently got a new camera, is that so?”

Emmy perked up. 

  
“Ah, yes! It’s one of those new polaroid cameras.”

  
Hershel chuckled at how excited Emmy got about her photography.

“Has it been useful, so far? Maybe I should invest in one.”

“No offense, Professor, but you can barely take a photo without it coming out all blurry!” Emmy laughed. 

  
“How is it you’re so precise with your hands when it comes to handling artifacts, but you tremble terribly when handling a camera?”

“Hmm, I suppose I lack experience, therefor I lack the confidence to really pull through with a decent composition.”

“Maybe I can teach you some time!”

“Oh, how kind of you, Emmy. I appreciate it, but you really don’t have to-“

“I insist!” Emmy patted Hershel’s back reassuringly.

The Professor sighed.

  
“Alright. Thank you. I’ll look forward to it.” 

Silence filled the air once that conversation ended, and Hershel picked up his teacup and saucer and took a sip of the warm brew.

“You know, Professor... There’s been...something I’ve wanted to ask you ever since we met...” Emmy quietly started up once more.

“Is that so? Well, I’m all ears.” Hershel said as he set the saucer back down, listening intently.

“Why...Why do you always wear your hat?” Emmy tilted her head as she looked to him.  
Hershel raised his eyebrows in what looked like surprise, then averted his eyes. 

“Ah, um. I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“You know what I mean! As long as I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you without that high silk hat! Come to think of it, I think I’ve seen you sleeping with it on!” 

Hershel, in an attempt to drown his silence, moved to pour them each another cup of tea.

“Forgive me, Emmy, but I don’t think there’s an easy explanation.”

Emmy scoffed playfully.

  
“Hah! Why not? Does Professor Layton have a dark secret beneath his top hat?”

Before Hershel could respond with a change of subject, he felt his hat being snatched off his head, and he nearly dropped the teapot.

“Ah-!” 

Hershel quickly turned his head to the thief that wore a playful smile as she put on his hat.

“ _’Look at me! I’m Professor Layton! I love my hat so much, I never take it off!’_ ”   
Emmy said in a deep voice, holding the tall hat in place on top of her head.

“Oh, your hair looks nice, Professor! Sort of...scruffy!” She complimented the frazzled Hershel.

“E-Emmy. Please, give that back.” Hershel stammered as his face went pale.

“Haha, you’ll have to catch me, first!” Emmy stood up and ran to the other side of the sofa as Hershel stood up straight and reached over to grab it.

“Emmy, this...this isn’t amusing!” 

“It is to me!” Emmy giggled. “I like seeing you lose your composure. And, also, I like your hair! I want to keep seeing it!” 

She ran to the coffee table as the professor sped around to chase her. 

“Emmy-“

“Nope! You can’t make m-!”

**“EMMY.”**

Emmy yelped when she felt a strong grip on her wrist, and she was met with furious dark brown eyes like she had never seen before.

“ ** _GIVE. IT. TO. ME. NOW._** I will _**NOT**_ ask you again.” 

Hershel spoke in a growl, bordering on a yell.   
A meek, timid noise akin to a scared mouse left Emmy’s throat as she dropped the hat to the floor.

They stood in that position for what felt like a terrifying eternity before Emmy quietly spoke.

“You’re hurting my arm, Professor...”

Hershel blinked, then raised his eyebrows in quiet surprise and soon lowered them in regret. He loosened his grip, then swiped his hand away from her, nearly stumbling back.

“I…”

He swallowed hard, trying to shake that sense of complete panic out of his system.  
He looked down to the ground where his silken hat lay on its side. He kneeled down and took it into his hand.  
He put it onto his head and straightened up, his eyes still glued to the floor in shame as he stood before a frozen Emmy.

“I...sincerely apologize for what just transpired, Emmy.”

Something in him urged him to be a gentleman and check her arm for any slight injury he could have caused, but he knew that the outburst he just had right now erased any certainty of gentleness.   
Emmy shifted her weight nervously as he tried standing up straight. 

“I’m...I’m sorry to have upset you, Professor. I should have just respected your boundaries.”

“Neither of us knew something like _that_ would happen, I’m sure.” Hershel tried to force a laugh.

He took his leap of faith by hesitantly looking up to Emmy’s face. Their eyes locked.  
Emmy could tell how terrible he felt just by seeing how worried he looked for her.

“Would...would you like an explanation, or would you like to forget this ever happened?” Hershel quavered.

“Well, I’d be lying if that scene didn’t make me a little curious.”

Hershel sighed, then walked over to the couch and motioned for her to sit by him. Emmy obliged and sat with her hands folded in her lap.

“This hat was a gift from someone very dear to me.” Hershel started.

  
“It was a gift from my girlfriend, Claire, around six years ago. She...died, she died shortly after giving it to me.”

Emmy noticed how Hershel had a far-away look in his eyes, as if he was reliving a pleasant memory that could never come into fruition again.

Emmy’s look softened.

“Oh...” she breathed out quietly.

“The last time I saw her, I was moving to take it off. She grabbed my hand and said ‘No, don’t take it off. It suits you. It really does.’” 

  
  
He smiled softly, thinking back to how she always spoke in a gentle, reassuring giggle.  
He looked out to the window.

“I thought...I thought I’d take her word for it. It was the last thing she asked of me before she left.”

The ticking of the clock in the corner sounded as slow as ever. The angelic tune from the gramophone was reduced to a static hum, as the song had ended long ago.   
Emmy put a comforting hand on The Professor’s shoulder. Hershel’s eyes darted back to her.

“I get it.” Emmy carefully said.

  
“It’s important to you. I understand. You still need to heal.”

“What I just did now is-“ Hershel started.

“-is unlike you, I know. It’ll be our secret.” Emmy finished.

“Let’s just start our conversation over, alright? I won’t pester you again.”

Hershel nodded.

“Thank you, Emmy.” 


End file.
